


FTS2

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:24:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More of the sarcastic saga from the world of Baby Blair and Caveman Jim<br/>This story is a sequel to FTS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FTS2

**Author's Note:**

> Well, after the overwhelming feedback I got from the first one, how could I resist writing another? My evil muse was on overdrive one day. In fact, it's back for part 3, so I figured I'd better post part 2 first. These stories stand alone tho.

## FTS2

by JenCat004

Author's webpage: <http://www.geocities.com/televisioncity/stage/3664/>

Author's disclaimer: _*THIS IS HUMOR*_ folks! I'm a definite non-fan of terms like "Tiny" and "frail" being used in reference to Blair, and I love satire, so... 

I welcome all feedback on this one! (Actually, I was kind of disapointed no one sqawked about the last one) 

Anyways, enjoy! (Or not. But I hope y'all do!) 

This is for Tex. ;)

* * *

Jim lumbered into the loft, as was his wont, looking around dimly. Dimly, yes, since none of the lights were on. This shouldn't have mattered to a Sentinel, but Jim was in full Caveman mode, and therefore not thinking too much. (As was his wont) 

"Blair?" he grunted, shuffling in, dropping his club (Okay, his gun) picking his nose vigorously. "Blair?" 

A small, tiny shriek echoed up from the floor and Jim looked down slowly, his massive, powerful, crushing foot barely missing Blair's small, delicate, frail arm, which lay sprawled limply across the floor. 

"What Blair doing on floor?" Jim puzzled, reaching down to yank Blair up into his usual savage grip, feeling the bruise rising with satisfaction. Jim liked it when Blair bruised.... "What Blair doing on floor?" Jim repeated three more times before he realized he had already asked that question, his other hand digging deeper into his strong, manly, powerful nose. "Why lights all out?" 

Blair let out a small, shrill squeak, quivering like a reed in a hurricane before gasping out his faint, delicate reply. 

"I-I was feeling faint... I haven't eaten in 2 weeks... I know you don't like it when I get fat..." Blair blubbered, sniveling as Jim pulled him closer. "I had the lights off because I didn't want to waste electricity, since I make no money despite the fact I work 80 hours a week," he whined weakly. (And delicately) 

"Blair not fat," Jim protested. "Ally McBeal fat. Blair just chubby. But Jim give Blair something to eat," Jim leered, forcing Blair to his knees despite his whimpering, delicate (definitely delicate!) shrieks of protest. "Blair suck Jim now... Jim like that..." 

Three seconds later Jim had shot his usual gallon of come down Blair's thin, reedy, fragile (and delicate!) throat. Blair swallowed it happily, despite the fact that Jim had nearly choked him to death, and almost ripped out half his hair in the process, as was his wont. He sagged back to the floor in a fragile, slender, trembling heap as Jim shuffled off, sticking his head into the oven. 

"Food smell good!" Jim grinned happily, buckets of drool dripping from his strong, manly jaw as he admired the two cows roasting in the oven. "Jim hungry! Want food now!" 

"It'll be ready in 45 seconds," Blair simpered weakly, struggling up on his tiny, delicate feet, limping into the kitchen on his thin, slender legs (that were also delicate). 

"Jim hungry NOW!!!" Jim thundered, slapping Blair across the face with his massive, powerful hand, sending him flying through the two glass doors Jim had installed for such purposes. "Jim tell Blair to have food ready when he come HOME! Blair BAD!!" 

"I'm sorry, Jim!" Blair wheezed through his (delicate) gossamer thin lungs, spitting out two tiny teeth from Jim's blow. "I was just so busy, what with teaching 14 classes every day, and helping you out at the police station, and doing all the shopping, and paying all the bills, and volunteering at the homeless shelter, and tutoring Daryl and all his friends, and doing all the laundry, and making your clothes by hand, growing all our vegetables in the roof garden, and herding the cattle, and churning the butter, and scrubbing the whole loft with a toothbrush every day, and saving the rainforest, and-" 

"Blair don't love Jim!" Jim grunted, refusing to listen (as was his wont) going into a zone, knowing within his heart that Blair didn't, despite the fact they had been married for 7 years, had 3 children, made passionate, heart-stopping love 1,331 times (in the last week) and had tattooed each-others name multiple times on their bodies, love him. "Jim kill himself, or disappear and rejoin covert ops now!!" 

Blair let out multiple tiny, shrill, whimpering shrieks (these were not delicate. Well, kinda, but not really), throwing himself across Jim's broad, massive, muscular, highly defined chest. "No, JIM!" he begged as his torrents of tiny tears soaked through Jim's shirt, whining in a tone high enough to cause half of Cascade's dogs to go deaf or kill themselves from the pain. "I'm sorry! This is all my fault, I was such a fool! Why couldn't I have admitted what I've known in my heart since the first time I laid eyes upon you, or even knew of your existence! What I've known in my soul since the very moment I was conceived! I love you! All those hundreds of women and thousands of men meant nothing! I still saved all of my virginity's for you, even though I'm 51 years old! I've never even kissed another! Oh please Jim, life is worth nothing without you! I will run away and live in ultimate regret, solitude and guilt for something that is patently obviously not my fault!" 

"Jim would have long-winded declarations of love and regret for time wasted, but Jim too repressed to say any of it," Jim nodded, pulling Blair into a bone crushing hug as long pent-up tears threatened to flow from his manly, but permanently dry tear ducts. "Jim love Blair. Jim never leave Blair. At least until we have another screamingly obvious to anyone with an IQ of 3 or less miscommunication that could be resolved by even the lowest of primates with a few logical words and one of us runs away to waste more long and lonely years of our lives apart, or at least cheat, and destroy all levels of trust between us..." 

"I have the strongest feeling of deja vu," Blair simpered, melting against Jim's broad, powerful chest as 50% of his (delicate) ribs shattered. 

"Blair silly," Jim grunted. "Nothing remotely similar to this has ever happened before..." 

* * *

End


End file.
